Awakening Love: Reborn to Be His Duchess Chapter 477: The Weight of Waiting

At Duskmoor Manor, the meal set before Elowen had clearly been prepared with thoughtful care, each dish tailored to what she enjoyed most. A whole trout had been lightly roasted with butter and garden herbs until the flesh turned tender and delicate, a slow-simmered beef and barley stew with carrots and turnips filled the room with a rich, comforting aroma, and there was also a platter of fire-grilled beef, still warm from the hearth, its juices glistening in the light.

Cassian had come to know her preferences with unnerving precision.

And yet, without him at the table, the food might as well have been ash.

Elowen lifted her fork and forced herself to eat at a steady pace, though nothing truly appealed to her. After finishing half a bowl of grain and a serving of broth, she already felt full, but when she set the fork down and looked at what remained, his voice lingered in her mind, reminding her not to neglect her meals.

He made me promise I'd take care of myself.

With a faint crease between her brows, she picked the fork up again and made herself eat a little more, just enough to feel she had honored that promise before finally letting the meal end.

By the time she left the table, the afternoon sun had softened into a warm, golden glow that stretched lazily across the stone corridors.

She settled onto the cushioned seat beneath the covered gallery, a book resting open in her lap, though the words refused to settle into meaning. Her thoughts drifted without direction, as though her mind had slipped loose from anything solid.

Pregnancy had left her easily worn, her energy fading without warning. She shifted slightly, adjusting against the cushions until she found a position that eased the tension in her back, then let her eyes fall closed.

Sleep came quietly, without effort.

She did not know how much time had passed before the dream turned.

Something dark and formless pressed in, followed by a sudden chill that crept along her skin.

Elowen startled awake, breath catching.

"Mira," she called, her voice rough from sleep.

Mira was at her side almost instantly. "Your Grace, you're awake."

Elowen gave a small nod, still shaking off the remnants of the dream. "What hour is it now?"

"It's nearing late afternoon, Your Grace."

Elowen did a quick count in her head, and her expression tightened. "He's still not back? There wasn't much to be discussed today. It shouldn't have taken this long."

Mira hesitated, then shook her head. "No word has come from the royal residence."

She studied Elowen's face for a moment, then made up her mind. "If it pleases you, I'll have someone sent to inquire."

Elowen inclined her head. "Do that."

As Mira turned and hurried off, Elowen rose with Cora's support, her fingers resting lightly against the maid's hand for balance.

"Would Your Grace like to go to the study?" Cora asked gently.

Elowen gave a quiet hum in agreement.

She had barely taken a few steps when a voice carried faintly from down the corridor, unmistakably Mira's, now filled with relief.

"His Grace has returned? Her Grace has been asking after you all this time."

Elowen turned at once.

Just beyond the bend in the inner passage, where the corridor opened toward the secondary gate, a small procession had just entered.

Cassian led them.

He was dressed in a dark formal coat befitting his rank, the lines of it sharp and severe, his posture straight and unyielding, like a blade held at the ready.

The tightness in Elowen's chest loosened all at once.

His expression, however, was far from at ease. His brows were drawn low, his mouth set in a hard line that spoke of restrained anger.

Then, as though pulled by instinct, his gaze lifted.

It found her immediately.

For a brief moment, the tension in his face eased.

He stepped past Mira and the guards without breaking stride, heading straight toward her.

"Ella."

Elowen reached for his hand without hesitation.

"Let's go inside," Cassian said, his fingers closing firmly around hers, the grip just a little tighter than usual, as if grounding himself in her presence.

They moved together into the study.

Cora and Mira remained outside, closing the door softly behind them.

Elowen rose slightly on her toes as she removed his cloak, her movements careful and practiced. Cassian inclined his head just enough to make it easier for her, saying nothing as he let her take over.

"What happened at court?" she asked, hanging the cloak neatly on its stand.

Cassian pressed his fingers briefly to his brow before crossing to the cushioned bench by the window, lowering himself onto it and gesturing for her to sit beside him.

"It wasn't anything beyond control," he said, though his tone suggested otherwise. "Roderic from Nordia pushed things too far, words escalated, and before long the room turned into a mess. It ended with things being thrown."

Elowen's attention sharpened immediately. "Were you hurt?"

"I wasn't."

He caught her wrist gently when she reached for him, anticipating her next move. "But Dominic stepped in front of me when it broke out. Something came flying across the room and struck his face. It split the skin open, and there was more blood than anyone cared to see. That's what forced His Majesty to intervene. He had to settle both sides and summon the court physicians. That's why it ran so late."

Elowen still did not look convinced.

She slipped her hand free and, without asking again, began checking him herself, brushing back the fabric at his sleeve and leaning in to examine the exposed skin at his collar with careful attention.

Only when she found nothing, not even the faintest mark, did she finally settle beside him again.

"I thought the negotiations had already settled the framework," she said, her brows drawing together. "Everything seemed to be moving smoothly. Why would it suddenly fall apart like that?"

Cassian exhaled slowly. "Because Roderic decided to change the terms. The original agreement required Nordia to provide five hundred prime warhorses each year, along with eight hundred sets of hardened armor and a selection of fine pelts. In return, Avenlor would compensate them with equal value in coin, silk, trade goods, and grain stock. Today, he claimed their herds suffered losses over the winter and reduced the number to three hundred. As for the armor, he struck it out entirely."

When Roderic finished speaking, a heavy silence fell over the chamber, thick enough to make every breath feel measured.

Dominic was the first to break it. He shot to his feet, his voice sharp with restrained anger. "Prince Roderic, those terms were agreed upon days ago. To walk them back now hardly seems in good faith."

Another official from the same ministry followed immediately, unable to hold back his frustration. "Exactly. Five hundred horses is no great prize to a realm like ours. And once we accept them, do we not return the value in coin, crafted goods, and quality grain? This exchange was meant to open trade between us, something your side stood to gain from. Yet the way you present it, one would think we were extorting you."